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“Yes, I…” He lowered his head.
Lamplight glistened on the sheen of oil in his dark brown hair. He’d always used Macassar oil to tame his unruly waves. When he arrived, she’d noticed the ruddiness in his cheeks from a recent shave, and during their entire time at the table, the spicy essence of his cologne carried over the savory aroma rising from the tureen. His neatly combed hair and smooth face juxtaposed his wrinkled, dust-smeared suit. Odd that he’d taken the time to shave and put Macassar oil in his hair but still wore the travel suit she’d seen when he crossed the yard nearly three hours ago.
He straightened and sighed, a half smile quivering on the corners of his lips. “I think I’m too tired to eat. I slept very little on the train.”
Papa swallowed, clinked his fork on his empty plate, and leaned back. “When Maria and I arrived at Castle Garden in 1872 and rode the train to Newton, we spent almost three weeks in the railcar. I don’t think we slept much either, but our Rupert was a small baby then and did a lot of crying.” Sadness momentarily pinched Papa’s brow, but he ran his hand over his face and cleared the expression. He tipped his head in curiosity. “How long did it take you to travel from New York to Kansas?”
“Three days,” Gil said. He looked directly at Papa whenspeaking to him, and envy smote Ava. She’d never before been jealous of her father. The feeling rankled.
Papa shook his head, wonder blooming on his face. “Ach, so fast the trains go now. What a blessing.”
“How long do you intend to stay?” Ava blurted the question, her voice louder and higher pitched than she’d intended.
Gil shot her a startled look, briefly meeting her eyes. “Do you mean here this evening or in town?”
Suddenly she wasn’t sure which she’d meant. She shrugged, and a giggle masked as a soft cough found its way from her throat. She chose the least rude option. “In…in town.”
Gil looked aside. “I’m not entirely sure. I found myself between prospects”—
Ava stared at his stern profile, puzzled. What did he mean?
—“and thought it a good excuse to visit. It’s very noisy in New York City, so it’s hard to concentrate there. I missed the peacefulness of this little town.”
She swallowed a knot of sorrow. He missed the town. But had he not missed her at all?
He kept his face angled to the side, as if intrigued by something outside the window. “I’d like to compose while I’m here. I suppose I’ll stay until…until I finish a new composition. But there’s really no way to know how long that will take.”
Papa reached out and squeezed Gil’s shoulder. “However long you stay, we’ll enjoy your company. It’s good to have you home again, my boy.”
Gil turned and smiled at Papa. A genuine, heartfelt smile that sent Ava’s pulse into wild flutters. Such a strong response, and he’d only been looking at Papa. If he graced her with his smile, she might turn into a puddle. And what humiliation she would suffer.
She rose. “There are apple tarts for dessert.” She’d held backa few from the batch she baked for the town’s café. “Papa will want coffee with his sweet. What about you, G—” His name got stuck and refused to emerge.
Gil’s smile faded. He sent his gaze somewhere beyond her and shook his head. “None for me, thank you.”
No tart or no coffee? She should clarify, but clarifying required engaging him in further conversation. She quickly stacked their plates and hurried to the kitchen.
Gil
Gil stared atthe swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room, guilt resting heavily on his shoulders. He should have refused Bernard’s invitation. Obviously his presence was inconvenient. Ava hadn’t taken a single bite of her supper. Tension hung between them like a storm cloud in the room, making it impossible for him to enjoy the first decent home-cooked meal he’d been served since he left Falke four years ago.
Why was she still with her parents? He’d been certain by now she would be married, maybe with a baby or two. He’d wanted that for her. She deserved it. When he’d asked her to marry him and come to New York, she said leaving Falke would break her heart. So he’d granted her freedom. Why hadn’t she seized it?
Bernard cleared his throat. “I apologize if Ava seems distant.”
Gil zipped his attention to the older man’s face, which reflected both regret and worry.
“I should have given some thought to having a guest this evening. I was so happy to see you, I acted impulsively.” Bernard propped his elbows on the edge of the table. “Maria hadone of her bad days. That is why she didn’t join us for supper. When Maria has a bad day, Ava also has a bad day, because she worries over her mother.”
Gil nodded slowly. Maybe he wasn’t to blame, then, for Ava’s reticence. Or for her continued presence in her parents’ home. “If she bakes for the café and has responsibility for Taunte Maria’s care, she probably doesn’t have time for…other activities then, either.”
A wry chuckle rumbled. “What Ava does with her time is Ava’s choice. She isn’t tied to her mother’s apron strings.”
Such a perplexing statement. What to make of it?
“But what of your time while you’re here in Falke?” Bernard looped one arm over the back of his chair and fixed Gil with a speculative look. “Will you work every day on a new composition?”
Given how empty of creativity he’d been of late, he could spend every hour of every day composing and still accomplish nothing more than a simple ditty. He shrugged. “Probably not. I assured Onkel Hosea and Taunte Dorcas I would find a way to earn my keep so I’m not a burden on them.” They hadn’t been as overjoyed as the townsfolk to see Gil. He didn’t resent them for their reaction, though. They had enough responsibility with his seven cousins all living at home. Even Joseph was still there, and he was old enough to have his own family by now.
